


Some Assembly Required

by mountain_born



Series: The Marvelous Tale of an Agent, an Archer, and an Assassin [42]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who/Avengers Crossover Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountain_born/pseuds/mountain_born
Summary: With the Battle of Demons Run looming on the cosmic horizon, the Doctor is assembling his army.





	Some Assembly Required

**Author's Note:**

> First and always foremost, thank you to my awesome beta and writing partner, **like-a-raven**.
> 
> We’re starting to wade very deeply into Doctor Who plot territory now. For those who may not be as familiar with Who canon, the “Flesh” that is referred to in this fic is introduced in the sixth season two-parter, _The Rebel Flesh_ and _The Almost People._ The first scene in this fic is lightly adapted from the final scene of _The Almost People._
> 
> As always, thank you all for stopping by and reading. Enjoy the story!

_Leaving the St. John’s Mining Facility_   
_Six Weeks Ago_

The Doctor had thought he’d had more time. Wasn’t that always the way? 

It had taken him a while to run his hunch to ground. He’d known that things had been off with Amy for months, but it wasn’t until he’d found references to the Flesh that things began to fall into place.

The Flesh--living liquid organic material capable of mimicking a person so perfectly that even their nearest and dearest would be hard pressed to tell the difference between the original and the Flesh avatar. So perfectly that even the avatar itself could become confused.

Now the Doctor had all the answers he needed, but the situation was already spiraling to a head. Amy was doubled over in pain, being held upright by a frantic Rory.

“Doctor? What’s happening to her?”

“Contractions,” the Doctor replied. “She’s going into labor.”

There were sputters of confusion from both Rory and Amy as they automatically looked down at Amy’s decidedly _not_ pregnant figure. The Doctor noted that particular disparity with detached interest. Not only could the Flesh imitate a person, it could be tweaked for the purposes of disguise. Their Amy, wherever she was, was heavily pregnant. The doppelganger showed no such sign.

Rory caught Amy as her knees buckled and she cried out in pain. “You’re going to have to start explaining some of this to me, Doctor,” he said.

“What, the birds and the bees? She’s having a baby.” The Doctor adjusted the settings on his sonic screwdriver. “I needed to see the Flesh in its early days. That’s why I scanned it. That’s why we were there in the first place. I needed enough information to block the signal to the Flesh.”

Once the psychic link to the real Amy was severed, the avatar should revert to its raw, liquid state.

“What signal?” Amy asked, gripping Rory’s arm tightly.

“The signal to you. Stand away from her, Rory.”

The Doctor half-expected Rory to argue with him. It would go against every instinct Rory had to step away from Amy while she was in distress. But the strangeness of this little tableau must have convinced him that the Doctor’s claim had some merit, because he carefully extricated himself from Amy’s grip and stepped back.

Amy (no, _not_ Amy) was near tears by now. “No. No. Doctor, I am frightened. I am properly, properly scared.”

“Don’t be,” the Doctor said softly. He rested a hand on the avatar’s shoulder. “Hold on. We’re coming for you. Whatever happens, however hard, however far, we will find you.”

He only hoped that their Amy could hear him.

“I’m right here,” the avatar insisted.

“No, you’re not.” The Doctor stepped away. “You haven’t been here for a long, long time.”

The Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver and pressed the control button, severing the psychic link, and Amy dissolved into a pool of liquid Flesh.

*****

_Deep Space_  
 _TARDIS Control Room_  
 _Present_

The Doctor sat up on the sofa next to the control console and rubbed his face tiredly. Contrary to popular myth he _did_ sleep, but he was thinking he might well give it up as a rubbish use of time. Really, he gave his eyes forty winks of rest, and what did they do in return? Replayed images of Amy disintegrating into a puddle of liquid Flesh over and over again.

_No. Not Amy,_ he told himself firmly. That Amy hadn’t been real. The real Amy had been gone for months, taken by the Academy of the Question and the Silence. They had left a replica in her place, a doppelganger fed by a psychic link to Amy. 

The Doctor still felt a tiny wisp of guilt over destroying the doppelganger. She had been such a perfect copy that even she hadn’t known what she was. But the Doctor had disposed of her as humanely as he’d known how. The important thing now was getting Amy back.

Amy and her baby. 

The Doctor pushed himself up off the sofa and checked the TARDIS’s controls. He could hear his old friend Dorium Maldovar loudly holding forth on something down one of the corridors. Dorium was not at all happy about being press-ganged into this adventure, but the Doctor hadn’t given him a choice in the matter. Dorium dealt in the world of black markets and backrooms, and he had his blue fingers in any number of very informative pies. The Doctor needed whatever information the man had on the Silence. 

Thus far, the information had been very edifying. The Doctor had been hearing rumors and whispers about the Silence swirling in the cosmic wind for months now. Dorium had been able to fill in several of the blanks. The Silence was some sort of religious order—a cult really. They had a dedicated military arm, the Academy of the Question. Cults with their own armies, in the Doctor’s experience, were universally bad news, and this one apparently had a bone to pick with him personally.

“That’s why they took your friend; to draw you out, make you come to them,” Dorium had said. “And the child is just the icing on the cake. They know you won’t be able to resist.”

They were right enough about that. The Doctor walked to the edge of the control platform, checking on the activity down below. The Silurian squadron was still getting itself sorted out and organized, and they and the half-dozen Sontarans were giving each other a wide berth. At least the pirate crew had settled in without a fuss. The Doctor had been calling in favors all over Time and Space for the last few weeks, gathering his army.

If the Silence wanted a fight so badly, the Doctor would bring them a war.

Down below, the door of the TARDIS swung open. The Doctor briefly glimpsed a bit of foggy Victorian London before Rory entered, dressed in full Roman uniform. Rory had been in uniform since the day they’d started working to get Amy back, and the Doctor hadn’t questioned it or even commented. He didn’t need to. The sword and armor were just Rory’s version of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Rory was followed by Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint. The Silurian woman and her human partner were already outfitted for battle, bearing swords of their own and carrying heavy-looking valises. Rory pointed them down the corridor toward the bedrooms, then climbed the stairs to join the Doctor at the control platform.

“Any trouble?” the Doctor asked.

“None at all,” Rory replied. “They’re eager to help.”

The Doctor nodded. He’d expected as much. Some of the people who owed him favors were more reluctant to come in than others, but Vastra and Jenny were always game to lend their aid to a good cause. 

“Did you get Dorium?” Rory asked.

“I did. We had a very edifying conversation.”

“And he knows where Amy is? Where _they_ are?” 

This was another reason why the Doctor had sent Rory alone to pick up Vastra and Jenny while he had gone to fetch Dorium. Rory sounded like he was ready to shake answers out of the closest warm body. The Doctor felt for him. A few weeks ago, Rory had thought that his wife was safe at his side and fatherhood was a happy possibility somewhere in the near future. Then in the span of minutes he’d learned that not only had Amy been kidnapped, but that their very real, non-hypothetical child was already well on its way to being born. And both of them were in the hands of the Doctor’s enemies.

“They’re in the 52nd Century,” the Doctor said. “The Silence and the Academy are holding them at a military facility, Asteroid Outpost 3127.9. The locals in that sector call it _Demons Run._ Dorium has the exact coordinates.”

“Good.” Rory’s hand clenched lightly around the hilt of his sword. “Was Dorium able to tell you anything else?”

Dorium had spilled a veritable barrel of guts in point of fact. There would be time to get into all of that, and they’d need to in order to properly plan their attack. For now the Doctor decided to limit himself to the most important piece of information Dorium had possessed.

“It’s a girl,” he said. “The baby, she’s a girl. You have a daughter.”

For just a moment, Rory’s face lit up with pure joy. The Doctor hadn’t realized, until this chain of events had launched into motion, exactly how much Rory wanted to be a father. And Amy wanted to be a mother. They’d had discussions, made plans, argued over names. Rory had told him all about it during their first of many long watches in the night.

The Doctor had had no idea. It felt like he should have. He should have been paying more attention. He should have been paying more attention to _everything._

As suddenly as it had appeared, the joy on Rory’s face was replaced by steely determination. That made the Doctor smile. The Silence and the Academy must have known that they were going to incur the Doctor’s anger. They probably hadn’t bargained on the wrath of the Last Centurion.

“We’ll get them back,” Rory said.

“Yes, we will indeed,” the Doctor replied, turning back to the console. “We almost have everything and everyone we need.”

“Where are we stopping next?” Rory asked.

“New York, 2012.” The Doctor finished keying in the coordinates and pulled the control lever. “I believe it’s time to call in the Avengers.”

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued! Next up, _Demons Run._


End file.
